


Daft Pretty Boys

by mssr_moony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthdays, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gay Sirius Black, Hogwarts, James is a Dork, M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Original Universe, Some angst, Werewolf Remus Lupin, christmas at the potters', gay fluff, jily, marls and dorcas my faves, maybe smut idk, remus is sweet, remus is tall, remus lupin - Freeform, sirius black - Freeform, sirius has anxiety, whomping willow - Freeform, wolfstar, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssr_moony/pseuds/mssr_moony
Summary: original universe wolfstar (with a cheeky bit of jily and darlene (?? marlene and dorcas)set in their fifth year and this is cheesy and fluffy but its not bad lmaoanother reallyyyy sappy wolfstar fic. idrk where this is going bc I didn't plan it, but I think this is gonna be a long one probably hopefully since ive got summer coming up which means lots of time to write. if you wanna leave any suggestions for what could happen next in the comments then go for it bc I could use some inspiration. also there's gonna be a song title with every chapter :) enjoy my dudes(also thank u to @at_thezenith) for editing bc I'm lazy as fuck love u





	1. Home From Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick tw: panic attack but not in too much detail. 
> 
> so yeah hi first chapter. i'll be posting every week or two hopefully, I have a few chapters already written so hopefully i'll be able to post regularly. 
> 
> also the song for this chapter is 'daft pretty boys' by bad suns 
> 
> enjoy :)

Sirius was sitting in the cold of his room, a piteous fire fluttering in the wastepaper bin by the door. He was wringing his hands together as he watched the flames engulf the paper, clenching his jaw as not to let the tears fall from hooded eyes. He could still make out James’ scrawled handwriting, and Remus’ neater script on the parchment before the flame grew and enveloped the letters entirely. Letters from his friends were what made his summers at home even slightly bearable. He was remined of this fact as his mother’s shrill voice echoed up the stairs, breaking the uneasy silence that never really left the Black household. As the parchment turned to ashes in the bottom of the bin, the adolescent extinguished the fire with a slight flick of his wand. He had received many letters over the course of the summer and each time a letter arrived, he went through the same procedure: open it, read it, burn it. The last step a precaution to prevent his family ever getting a hold of the letters, which would reveal the kind of person he truly was, rather than the façade that his family believed to be his honest personality.

Digging his nails into his palm to prevent tears from falling from closed eyes, Sirius lowered his head to his knees, attempting block out thoughts of his father’s stern face, and his cousins’ harsh words. He allowed better memories to flood in: receiving Christmas presents from Mr and Mrs Potter; gorging on sweets and gagging on firewhisky with Peter; Remus and James in their dorm room; skating on the frozen Black Lake in the dead of winter. He remembered the first time he’d managed to change into his animagi form, and the look of utter joy and relief on Remus’ face as he realised that he’d no longer have to transform alone. Peter’s way of managing to make them all laugh, even after a particularly tough full moon. Sirius thought back to James’ roaring laughter, and the way it always managed to get him smiling. He let his mind wander for a long while, until a smile had relaxed his face, along with his fists.

“Oi, Padfoot!” Sirius looked up from his seat on the train to see a familiar face grinning down at him from the door of the compartment. James entered the compartment with his usual casual saunter, plonking himself down next to his best friend.

“Alright?” James nodded in the affirmative in answer to Sirius’ question, his mouth already stuffed with Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. When Remus arrived, James was sprawled over one cushioned bench, while Sirius had his feet up on another, his back against the window. As Remus shuffled in, Sirius reflexively separated his legs, allowing Remus to sit between them and lean his head back against his friend’s collarbone. Both so unknowingly engrossed in each other, neither noticed James smirking at them, frustrated with their obliviousness.

The werewolf and his best friend began murmuring to each other in quiet words, and at some point, Sirius’ hands found their way into Remus’ hair, and they remained that way until they were interrupted by Peter’s entrance to the compartment.

By the time they all arrived at Hogwarts for the beginning of their fifth year, Sirius had almost forgotten about his life at home. Almost. He shook his head as the blocked those thoughts out and slung an arm around Remus’ shoulder; he didn’t notice the way Remus ducked his head and blushed at the action, but James did. He smiled to himself as the four of them disembarked the platform and climbed onto carriages pulled by thestrals that only Remus could see.

The sorting ceremony went as usual, each table piping up in cheers as a first year made the shy journey over to their designated table. Sirius cheered the loudest out of all the Marauders, if only because he remembered so clearly what it was like to be placed by the Sorting Hat. He remembered being so scared and unsure, staring down at the eager faces of young witches and wizards as he begged and bartered with the Hat to be placed anywhere, anywhere, but Slytherin. And then his wish had been acquiesced, and he, the first Black ever to do so, stalked over to the tale laden with red décor. He had realised, then, that he didn’t know a single person, and was about to take a seat at the end of the table, when a hand had grabbed his elbow, and a young boy with messy hair and round glasses had congratulated him heartily, and demanded that he sit with him and the lanky boy in the oversized jumper.

“Pads? There’s apple pie, want some?” Remus’ husky voice snapped Sirius out of his reminisces, and he gratefully accepted the plate of his favourite pudding. As always, Sirius also found himself appreciating Remus’ voice, and maybe (although he would never admit it) focusing on Remus’ smile for far longer than was strictly necessary. Remus’ smile. Sirius could talk about it, him, for days. And he’d never admit it, but he had the biggest fucking crush on the guy, and it was quickly becoming an issue, for three reasons. Firstly, the Black family weren’t what one would describe as accepting, in fact, they were about as narrow-minded as it was possible to be. Now, it’s not as if Sirius would miss them – they had done nothing but treat him like shit for the majority of his life (with the exception of Andromeda, and maybe Regulus). The only factor that was preventing Sirius turning up at the next family dinner with a pride flag draped around his shoulders, booty shorts that read ‘GAY AS FUCK’, with ABBA playing in the background, was the massive inheritance he was due to receive once his parents finally kicked the bucket.

The second reason that the ever-growing crush was an issue was that he didn’t think his mental health (or Remus’ for that matter) could quite handle it. With his frankly taxing family life, ongoing sexuality crisis, and the growing threat of war as pure blood families like his own rallied in unity against muggleborns, Sirius wasn’t sure if he could actually handle a rejection from Remus Lupin. The third reason was so cliché that Sirius mentally slapped himself for even thinking it, but he truly didn’t want to fuck up the friendship he had with Remus. He thought about how close they were, putting their behaviour down to a simply platonic friendship, oblivious to the fact that his feelings were entirely reciprocated. A lifetime of friendship with Remus was more than enough, and Sirius wasn’t about to throw that away for a crush. Well, maybe it was more than a crush, but nobody else needed to know that.

The first night back at school in September was always something. Sirius could never predict whether this would turn out to be a good or bad something, but on September 1st of their fifth year, it was a good something, and Sirius was immensely glad of that, because a good something was exactly what he needed. It was late. Late enough that most of the younger years had already made their way up to their shared dorms, and a mere handful of older Gryffindors lounged in the common room. Some sat on the plush, patterned bean bags next to the windows; some were sprawled on the sofas in the middle of the room, or, in the case of Sirius and his friends, on the floor in the gentle heat of the crackling fireplace. Sirius had his back leaning against the sofa, facing the fire, and his hands in Remus’ hair, whose head lay in Sirius’ lap. Remus’ long legs stuck out at angles, one of them bent at the knee, and the other pressing against James’ shoulder. James was sat uncomfortably close to the fireplace, and all he could hear was Peter crunching popcorn next to him, but there was no way in hell he was going to move and disrupt the scene before him.

“So, muggles really believe that a fairy flies into kids’ rooms at night, steals their teeth, and leaves cash behind?” James sounded incredulous as he questioned Remus on muggle traditions, and Sirius chuckled at how shocked Remus sounded in his reply.

“Prongs, we’ve been friends for five years-”

“Unfortunately.” James interjected, earning himself a pillow to the head.

“Unfortunate on my part too, mate. Anyway, tooth fairy. James, how the fuck have you known me for five years and still claim to never have heard of the tooth fairy.”

“To be fair, Prongs,” Peter piped up from his position closest to the fireplace, “not knowing about the tooth fairy is like never hearing of Babbity Rabbity.”

“Yeah, but at least Babbity Rabbity is somewhat believable!”

“Not if you’re a muggle.” Listening to the others continue the playful argument – “don’t you dare bring up fucking Father Christmas, Lupin, that dude’s about as creepy as it gets” – Sirius quite suddenly realised that he was getting tired, and his reply lacked the usual punch that his comments normally held, but to be fair to him, it had been a long day, and the clock proved that it had now passed into September 2nd. It was somewhat of a tradition for the Marauders to do that – stay up and watch one day pass into the next. Sirius appreciated it; starting the day with his friends felt like he was fully saying goodbye to the horrid Black household, at least until the next summer. The only downside: they all needed a metric fuckton of coffee the next day to function through hours of transfiguration, potions, and, worst of all, history of magic.

As he did with most lessons, Sirius spent most of the time staring at Remus’ too pretty face. The face in question was marred with a pretty impressive scar that stretched from his eyebrow all the way down to his jawline, but Sirius had spent so much time around Remus that he barely even registered it anymore. His eyes focused on Remus’ messy eyebrows that were partially hidden under even messier hair. Green-grey eyes glittered like sea glass in the late afternoon sun and Sirius found himself wondering how such a colour was even possible. As usual, Remus was everything that was unique and beautiful and Sirius was never much of a one for art, bit give him a brush and some paint and Sirius was pretty sure he could recreate Remus from memory alone. James noticed him staring, and, as he always did, smirked and rolled his eyes, but still said nothing. He’d just complain about it to his mum later in his weekly owls home ( _“She misses me Padfoot, shut it, alright? Also, you need to write something here too.”_ )

Due to Sirius’ extensive home schooling, he knew most of what was being taught already (in all subjects except muggle studies, of course), so he had rolls and rolls of parchment that contained snippets of poetry, rather than notes on the wand movement of silent spells. The poetry wasn’t good by any means, in Sirius’ opinion, which is why he hid the poems in a small box under his bed, concealed with a charm that had taken him a month to perfect, to ensure that no one ever read them. There was an extensive variety of poems; abstract prose about how the rain fell that day; sonnets about the way Remus had laughed at a joke; limericks for James when he was being a knob. It was somewhat of a release, Sirius found, to write about shit, even if no one would ever read it, it made him feel a little better that it was on paper, rather than just in his head.


	2. Only One I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another tw for sirius having a panic attack somehwere in the middle of the chapter   
> sappy n a bit angsty, basically them being gays as usual  
> the song this chapter is named after is 'only one i know' by the charlatans

Sirius had had plans with Remus, James, and Peter to sneak out to Hogsmeade that night, utilising a mixture of James’ cloak of invisibility, the Marauder’s Map, and the secret passage that led to the Shrieking Shack, but James and Peter had managed to land themselves in detention, despite it only being the third day back at school. So, after potions that afternoon, Sirius and Remus waved smugly as their friends headed to the Great Hall for detention and went up to the dorm room to fetch the map and the cloak. They talked and laughed on their way, their giggles hushed as the two of them struggled to fit under the cloak – it had been easier in the days when Remus wasn’t over 6 foot tall. The solution, they found, was for Remus to stand just behind Sirius, his chest pressing against Sirius’ shoulder blades, causing the shorter boy to take a moment to catch his breath because Remus was so _close._ Close enough that Sirius could feel his chin rest on the top of his head, and his scarred hands latent on Sirius’ hips as they tried (unsuccessfully) to walk in tandem with each other, all the while ensuring that went unheard, and unseen. The main issue was that Remus’ legs were so fucking _long,_ and there was no way that they could walk at the same pace when Sirius took two steps for every one that Remus did. When Sirius voiced his complaints in a hushed whisper, Remus chuckled, low and mischievous next to Sirius’ ear, and asked “ _does it really bother you, or are you just jealous that you’re a titch?”._ In retaliation, Sirius stopped in his tracks, causing Remus to stumble into the back of him. What was meant as a small prank backfired on Sirius hugely because, in an attempt not to fall, Remus’ hands tightened their grip on Sirius’ waist, and the latter had to take a moment because suddenly he could feel Remus everywhere and _oh god just fuck me already._

“Pads. Padfoot, come on, move.” Sirius shook his head as if to physically repel the thoughts, and the pair continued to shuffle through the corridor, reaching the secret passage just as the moon was beginning to beat the sun out of the sky. They entered the familiar passage and removed the cloak, uttering a small spell to light their wands, and forced themselves to be quiet until they were out of range of Filch and Mrs Norris on their nightly patrols. When they reached the Shack, the two burst into a fit of giggles, high pitched enough that it didn’t really fit their deeper voices and musculature. Sirius liked that though. He liked that Remus was one of the only people he felt he could be completely himself around, and that maybe Remus felt like that too. And even if his feelings were never fully reciprocated, just to be someone Remus trusted this much forever would be the greatest gift he could ever receive.

Once Sirius could talk without laughing again (this took at least a quarter of an hour, since every time Sirius calmed himself down, Remus would dig his long fingers into Sirius’ ribs, causing the latter to double over with laughter again).

“Okay, okay,” Sirius sighed, wiping tears from his eyes, “what are we doing tonight?”

Remus thought for a moment, then replied with a swear, saying that Peter had the indoor fireworks in his trunk. Sirius, of course, saw himself as a bit of a genius in most cases, but particularly when it came to finding something to do when there was nothing.

They ended up spending the night running around the Shack, playing games like tag and hide and seek, that Remus and James had introduced to Sirius in their first year, after discovering with a heavy heart that Sirius had never played games like this as a child. Padfoot, of course, always had tons of energy, and took great delight in transforming into a black dog in order to hide in smaller spaces in the many nooks and crannies of the dilapidated house, or simply to chase Remus around. It was easier to hide his blushes that way.

When the pair were tired from all the running and laughing and shouting, they sat in one of the smaller rooms on the top floor of the Shack. The room was dusty and the floorboards creaked with every step, but there were abandoned jumpers and cushions that the marauders had brought here on their frequent visits. They called this room their own. Sirius’ favourite feature was the small balcony that was somehow still structurally secure, despite the condition of the rest of the house. This was his and Remus’ spot. They would come here whenever one of them was stressed or upset, or just in need of each others company (which was often). They also came here before it was Remus’ ‘time of the month’ as Sirius liked to call it. It was these few days that Remus found the hardest; he was irritable and anxious, he barely slept, and he found concentrating in lessons harder than ever. It calmed him to just sit with his best friend, listening to him sing, or watch him point out the constellations. Remus could never remember which was which, but he’d never forget the constellation that Sirius was named after.

That night was surprisingly peaceful. The sky was relatively clear, and it was unusually warm for September, but Sirius still cuddled up to Remus under the excuse of body warmth. They watched the moon make its journey across the night sky, passing a cigarette between them. Sirius had never really liked the taste, but ever since Remus had picked up the habit, he’s just sort of followed. He tended to do that, he found, whether he meant to or not.

“Was it bad this year?” Even without context, Sirius knew that Remus was referring to his summer at home.

“I don’t know, man. ‘S weird. Mum was the same old hag, never shut her trap the whole fucking time.” Sirius paused, as he felt Remus tense, and release a breath of smoke with a frustrated grunt. He had voiced pretty much every opinion he had on Sirius’ family, so now he mostly resigned himself to supressing the anger he felt, often taking it out on an innocent wall whenever Sirius wasn’t watching.

“Reg wasn’t so bad but – I don’t know, he’s quiet. Mum gets to him, I know she does.” Sirius sighed. Their behaviour towards him, he could just about deal with now, but it killed him to watch the life stamped out of his little brother. He could see his inquisitive nature disappearing slowly as he forced himself to be the prefect child that their parents demanded. “I don’t know what to do. And I just - it’s because of me. If I could just suck it up and deal with it, she wouldn’t be so harsh on him and-”

Sirius hadn’t realised he was shaking, or that tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, but Remus had, and before Sirius knew it, his head was resting against Remus chest as he tried hard, so hard, not to cry. Remus didn’t care, he knew, he’d seen him much worse than this, but Sirius still hated it when he had a panic attack in front of Remus. He felt so weak and helpless as he shook, and most of all he hated that his family had this much power over him. That they could make him feel like this. Sirius listened to Remus and tried to take proper breaths that ended up coming in ugly gulps that separated sobs. Focusing on the feel of Remus’ hand as it made comforting patters on his back, Sirius regained control of his actions, and lifted his head to rest it on Remus’ collarbone. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, stroking his hair in a way that Remus knew made him feel safe and okay. In the fog in Sirius’ mind, one thought shone through, and Sirius found comfort in the fact that Remus had seen him like this, and he was still here.

“’S alright Pads. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you. ’m here.” Remus’ mouth was close to Sirius’ ear as he murmured quiet words of ease that alleviated his best friend’s breathing until his chest had stopped heaving and his eyes were sore but dry.

“Hi.” Sirius muttered as he brought his hands to hold Remus’.

“Hey,” Remus said softly. “You wanna stay here, or head back up to the castle?” In reply, Sirius uttered a word that sounded like ‘here’, but he wasn’t quite sure. So Remus slowly removed his jacket, placing it gently over Sirius’ shoulders, and leant back against the wall behind him. His cigarette had burnt out a while ago, so he lit a new one as he rubbed patterns on his friend’s back. Sirius fell asleep there, comfy on Remus’ lap, the faint scent that clung to his jacket soothing him into a pleasantly dreamless slumber.

That was the first night the two spent the night in the small room that overlooked Hogsmeade, entangled in each other’s embrace. It was also, coincidentally, the first time Sirius admitted to anyone (even if that person was just himself) that he was completely in love with Remus Lupin.

“Shit.” As was typical for Remus, the first words that exited his mouth the next morning was an expletive, which he thought was acceptable, considering. He was propped up against the slowly rotting wall, his neck crooked at an awkward angle against his own shoulder. He had lost all feeling in his legs and looked down to find Sirius the culprit of this affliction. He had his head resting on Remus’ thighs, lips parted slightly and dark hair that his mother insisted needed cutting falling prettily over his sleeping face. Although Remus definitely found himself slightly flustered by the sight, it wasn’t what made his breath catch in his throat. At some point during their nap, Sirius seemed to have capture Remus’ hand, and was hugging it tightly to his chest. It was cute as fuck (which Remus would never admit, Sirius didn’t need his ego inflating even more). Checking the scratched watch on his left wrist, Remus realised with a shock that the pair had about half an hour until their first lesson, and McGonagall would transfigure them each into a pair of old boots if they were late.

“Hey, Pads?” Remus gently shook Sirius’ shoulder in an attempt to wake him, but Sirius remained stubbornly asleep.

“Sirius, come on, we need to go. Lessons start soon.” Sirius simply groaned and burrowed his face against Remus, which he completely didn’t mind, but they really did need to go.

“Hey, I know you wanna sleep but I’m gonna tickle you if you don’t get the fuck up.” Remus knew that if anything would get his best friend awake, it was tickling him. Remus seemed to have a knack for it, and Sirius had complete weakness for it. It took a few seconds for Sirius to switch from grumbling and half asleep, to giggling and almost shrieking with laughter as he wriggled and begged Remus to stop.

“Fine, fine, I’m stopping.” Sirius sat up and glared daggers at his friend. “Why are you looking at me like that? I gave you warning!”

Sirius tried one last time to go back to sleep, leaning his head against Remus’ shoulder and closing his eyes, but Remus stood up before his friend could settle. Walking around to get rod of the pins and needles in his gangly legs, Remus accioed the invisibility cloak before offering Sirius a hand so they could get started on the walk back to the castle.


	3. Impossible To Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' birthday! A shit ton of fluff and lots of gay shit lmao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u to helen again for editing ily :))

“Pads.” James sighed as he leaned over, closer to his friend. “Padfoot.” Sirius remained oblivious to James’ whispers, seemingly entranced in watching Remus scribble furiously across the parchment, cramped handwriting making tracks, barely legible to anyone except Remus and those who knew him well enough.

“Sirius!” The adolescent in question snapped his head up, looking towards James as if he had been caught doing something he really didn’t want anyone else to see. James held in a giggle as he realised it was the same face as when he’d caught Sirius wanking that time he’d forgotten to lock the bathroom door.

“Dude if you don’t want him to find out, you gotta stop looking at him like he hung the fucking moon, alright?”

James had been struggling to find an adequate birthday present for Sirius, but if only he had a camera on him at that moment, that photo framed would be the perfect gift. Sirius’ mouth was agape, floundering at what to say; a flush spread over his cheeks and his grey eyes seemed to be stuck on James’ amused face. The bell rang, harsh and loud through the silence, and Sirius was saved from having to respond just then, but the moment the class flooded into the corridor, Sirius grabbed James’ arm (none too gently, he thought), pulling him into the bathroom. It was empty, thankfully, and Sirius dropped James’ arm, moving to run his fingers through his hair in the manner that he would only do if stressed to shit. The pacing, James thought, accompanied the feeling.

“How did… I mean, how long have you – fuck.” James’ amused smirk seemed to further leave Sirius lost for words.

“First, calm down, ‘s not the end of the world.” Leaning against the sink, James crossed his arms and smirked in a fashion only capable of by overly confident fifteen year old boys.

“As someone who spends pretty much every waking second with both of you, it’s kinda impossible not to notice. And don’t freak out thinking everyone knows, its probably just ‘cause I know you so well.” James paused, the corners of his mouth moving further upward, forming his trademark crooked grin. “I mean, once you’ve seen someone wanking, you know pretty much everything about them.”

The statement drew a chuckle from Sirius, breaking his panicked expression.

“Yeah, we don’t mention that.”

“Oh, don’t we?”

The pair held eye contact for a long moment, each daring the other to laugh first, until they broke out into a fit of hilarity simultaneously. It took a while, but once Sirius could stand up straight and utter a word without cracking up again, his eyes went solemn again. Well, as solemn as Sirius could get.  

“Really though, I mean, how long have you known?” James raised his eyebrows at that.

“Three years, give or take.” Ignoring Sirius’ splutter of shock, James ploughed on, lest his friend stammer himself into a stroke. “The way you look at him, man. Or the way you smile when he touches you, and your hands just somehow stick to his hair when he’s within about fifty feet of you. Oh, don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

At that, Sirius was rendered speechless, void of any witty comment or snarky remark, because he knew it was true. And of course, _of fucking course_ , James would notice. The other thing that Sirius realised, was that he needed to be a hell of a lot less obvious.

Thankfully for Sirius’ sanity, James dropped the subject. In fact, the next time Sirius thought about the subject more than he did on a daily basis, was his birthday. That year the third of November fell on a shockingly cold Tuesday. The snow fell heavy and soft over the Scottish highlands in cascades that left the castle cold and drafty. To Sirius’ utter joy, lessons were cancelled that day due to the freezing temperatures that both students and teachers alike could not even fathom enduring; even the stairs which were usually so annoyingly active seemed reluctant to move on the sluggish day.

The day started as each and every Marauders’ birthday had since Sirius’ twelfth birthday back in 1971. All were up at 5am as presents were opened on Sirius’ bed. He had been so shocked and moved that first year as the gifts were presented to him that he’d had to hold back tears; presents that had clearly had so much thought put into them – particularly the box of fudge and hand knitted scarf that came with the label – ‘ _Happy Birthday, dear. Enjoy! -The Potters’._ Every year a similar reaction was caused when Sirius opened a similar package, containing a sweet delicacy, along with a different coloured knitted scarf; Sirius now had a full drawer in his shared wardrobe dedicated to those scarfs, one which he was awfully proud of.

This year was no different. Sirius woke up to Peter gently shaking his shoulder, and enjoyed a split second of morning lethargy before Remus jumped onto the bed, sitting directly on Sirius’ chest.

“It’s your birthday, pretty boy! Come on. Up.” Sirius pointedly ignored James’s smirk as Remus moved slightly to the side to allow Sirius to sit up, but his gangling legs remained sprawled over Sirius’ lap.

“Open mine first, go on.” James chucked his present (inelegantly wrapped), and his parents’ (wrapped skilfully with a bow) onto Sirius’ bed. Opening them, Sirius was delighted with the usual sweets (firewhiskey chocolate this year), and a striped scarf holding all the colours of the rainbow (he had come out to them the previous Christmas, and they’d been immediately accepting, not that he’d ever imagined anything else from them). Smiling broadly, Sirius thanked his friend, and began unwrapping the next gift. A watch. A bit traditional, he thought, for James. Until he took a closer look and saw that the background of the watch face showed tiny moving quidditch players, all flying continuously around the quaffle, which served for the smaller second hand of the clock. Before his emotions could get the better of him, he shoved the wrapping paper off of his lap and gave James a heartfelt thanks.

The next present to be opened was a tape, clear before the present was even opened. It was a first edition copy of ‘Space Oddity’, by David Bowie. It had a small note on the front in Peter’s neat handwriting – ‘ _Legend. Happy Birthday Pads.’_ Sirius’ face lit up with his trademark grin as he appreciated the gift, patting Peter on the back and saying how he needed to listen to that album like, _yesterday_.

“You’re welcome, Pads. Also you might wanna open Moony’s before he explodes.” Peter was right, Remus was pretty much trembling with excitement as he waited for Sirius to open his gift. Again, James stood in the corner of the room, smirking, and saying decidedly nothing.

“Shut it, Pete. ‘S just a fucking _awesome_ present, is all.” Remus said with an air of cool nonchalance that was utterly for show.

“Bloody well better be after all that build up.” Sirius replied, peeling off the wrapping paper in small, slow motions, just to annoy his best friend. Ignoring exasperated sighs and chuckles from differing members of the group, Sirius finally opened the present. It was small, but shone brightly as Sirius touched it. A snow globe. An ordinary muggle invention that Sirius had discovered through Remus’ love for them – he had a growing collection that lived on the windowsill of their shared dormitory. This particular snow globe was warm to the touch, and its luminescence revealed its charmed nature. Moving the object around in his hands, Sirius looked closely at the objects inside; he could see two young men, clearly supposed to be himself and Remus, who were seemingly staring up at the roof of the globe. Sirius couldn’t help but blush when he noticed that the pair were holding hands. If he turned the front of the snow globe to face him, the constellation that Sirius was named after was visible, miniscule, through the glass, and if he turned it the other way, the constellation of Remus’ star sign could be seen glowing.

Sirius could literally feel his heart heating in his chest, or maybe it was his hand? No, that wasn’t right. The pulse in his hand didn’t match that of his own racing heart, and he must have looked perplexed because Remus took the initiative to explain.

“Um, so basically, I charmed it to beat in time with my heart? ‘S just, I know how shitty it is for you in summer, so I thought it might be a little easier if you had something with you to remind you of me. Just so, y’know, you wouldn’t feel so alone.”

Remus barely finished his sentence before Sirius pulled him close and hugged him tight, hand still gently clutching the thoughtful gift. The embrace was close and sweet, and it was moments like this that gave Sirius even the slightest flicker of hope that maybe, _maybe,_ his feelings weren’t unrequited.

In Sirius’ fairly short life, if he had to list his favourite days, each and every one of them would have been spent at Hogwarts (maybe with the exception of the time Mr and Mrs Black had left Sirius and Regulus in the care of their youngest aunt – Andromeda. That was the first time Sirius had felt truly happy and safe in his own home). He thought maybe this day would be his favourite day yet – no lessons, snowball fights in the grounds, hot chocolate (infused with the firewhiskey chocolate Sirius had received from James’ parents) by the fireplace. And all day Remus didn’t seem to leave his side. If it had been anyone else, that would have been annoying to Sirius, but he appreciated Remus’ closeness as they held hands walking back to the castle, and when Sirius chose to sit in Remus’ lap by the fire. That got them a few strange looks from confused first years, but everyone else in the Gryffindor common room was pretty much used to it. Anyone who had anything to say would get hexed by James, and he’d been learning some pretty decent spells from his newfound friend Lily.


	4. Sleeping With a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus have another deep chat bc that's all they do apparently. but yeah its cute and the song is sleeping with a friend by neon trees.
> 
> also ive fucking finished exams now so hopefully I can post more this summer, ive got a destiel fic that im writing and also a cute wolfstar oneshot thingy. 
> 
> im v happy to take prompts n shit for fics so either leave them in the comments here or   
> insta: @moriarteaspoon   
> twitter: @bo_tenant

The cold weather continued, and even worsened as it neared Christmas time. Harsh winds howled around the castle, spitting blasts of snow at the walls. The air was crisp and clear, but the scent of rain hung around the school like a damp towel; coughs and sneezes were rife, and Madam Pomfrey seemed to be prescribing anti-cold draughts more often than not. It was so cold and damp that even Sirius, who looked at Hogwarts with reverence, found himself wishing he could be elsewhere. His wish was granted in the shape of a roll of parchment delivered by owl, complete with the Potter crest as a stamp (“ _still can’t believe two of my best friends are posh dickheads – family crests, merlin in a party hat”_ _)._ There had been some debacle about who was going where this holiday, but Sirius was delighted to find out that he, James, and Remus were to spend Christmas with the Potters’. Sirius had been doing so every year since he had found out it was an option in their second year, and each Christmas at their house far topped any Christmas spent at his own.

When the time came to pack their trunks (“ _Remus, it’s not going to fit like that, c’mon get it in- Yes, Prongs I know what that sounds like but shut it.”_ ) they all felt slightly bad about leaving Peter behind, until he got a last minute owl from his parents saying that their holiday had been cancelled, due to the bad weather, so he was to go home for Christmas. This news put everyone in an even happier mood and they packed their trunks with a sort of optimism only viewable around holiday season. Half used rolls of parchment, crumpled robes in need of a wash, broken quills, and numerous stink bombs all made their way into too full trunks. By the time they were fully packed, they exited their dorm to find the rest of the common room void of people; they had either already left for the train, or were headed to the dining hall for dinner. The four of them walked as fast as they could while carrying trunks half their weight and reached the platform just as the train gave a loud blast signalling that it was soon to leave, leaving everyone in the vicinity uneasy with mildly ringing ears.

Taking the carriage they always did (preoccupied by first years who quickly left the carriage when they spotted the infamous marauders; the four of them didn’t intend to have that effect on the other students, but it kind of just happened). Sirius spent the journey, as usual, on his back with his head on Remus’ lap, his legs sprawled out across the old, cushioned seat. He tried not to fall asleep as Remus carded his fingers softly through his shaggy hair, gently untangling any knots. Sirius realised that his plan had failed when he awoke, groggy yet comfortable, warm with sleep and unwilling to move. Again, the train whistle blasted, and Sirius was thrown from his sleep-dazed state, sitting up only to notice the knots in his back and neck. He didn’t notice the French braid until long after they had left the station, swearing James and Peter were the worst for not telling him, yet not placing any blame on Remus (if only because he secretly liked the hairstyle).

“James! Over here, darling!” Blushing, James lugged his trunk over to his mum and dad, pointedly ignoring the sign (‘ _WELCOME HOME James, Sirius, and Remus_ _!’_ ) that his dad held begrudgingly.

“James, dear, it’s so,” Mrs Potter interrupted herself to squeeze her son tight, “lovely to see you.” Remus and Sirius each got the same treatment: a hug and a kiss on the cheek, followed by an exclaimed greeting from Mrs Potter. Next was a friendly handshake from Mr Potter (“ _call me Fleamont”_ ) before he placed his worn hat atop his messy hair and led the way towards the portkey that had been left just by the overhead sign that read “Platform ”. They all five grabbed the shabby looking umbrella, waiting for Fleamont to count down before they would set off.

“Okay, ready boys? And Euphemia of course.” They all nodded their answer, James and Sirius’ giggling slightly at their father’s addition.

“Alright, five, four, three-”

“Just before we go, Sirius I must say your hair looks absolutely wonderful, dear.” Mrs Potter interrupted her husband, earning her a exasperated look from him and their son alike, and a flustered blush from Sirius (the boy knew how to accept compliments from anyone but her and Remus). He had barely opened his mouth to thank her before the world disappeared and he tightened his grip on the umbrella and enjoyed the rollercoaster reminiscent experience. The portkey deposited them in the large front garden of the Potter House, and Sirius took a short moment to appreciate the house that had been more of a home to him than the Black household ever had; the house appeared to have an aura that emitted safety and happiness.

“Hey, hey.” Sirius was rudely awoken from his deep slumber by Remus frantically shaking his shoulder. He instinctively burrowed himself deeper into his pillow, that was, until he felt his best friend shove him over and clamber into bed next to him. Sirius had a near permanent room at the Potters’, so this time him and Remus were sharing that room; Sirius in his double bed near the window, and Remus on a bed that had been conjured out of thin air next to the door.

“This better fuckin’ be important Moons. ‘S gotta be like 3am.” Sirius mumbled as he shuffled over, allowing Remus into the bed (he pretended to be grumpy about it, but he really didn’t mind). Remus clambered into the bed, his gangly limbs causing his feet to be neglected by the duvet.

“Sorry, and it’s actually closer to four.” Sirius groaned in response and pressed his head into Remus’ chest, who stroked Sirius’ shaggy hair in thanks.

“’S just, it’s my, um. Time of the month. Soon. And I, I guess I don’t really know what to do. James’ parents have been really good to have me, and fuck, I don’t even know if they know I’m-”

“Hey, come on,” Sirius seemed to have fully awoken from his half asleep state and was hovering above Remus, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Okay first, we’re gonna do what we always do. James and I will change and we’ll look after you. I know somewhere secluded and far away enough.” Sirius noticed the frown begin to flatten out on Remus’ forehead, and continued.

“And second, they know. I told them a while ago. And before you say anything, they’re fine.” Remus didn’t look any less shocked at the fact that the Potters’ knew, and Sirius felt himself feeling guilty.

“Did you tell them?”

“I, uh yeah, I did. I kinda talk about you a lot, and I’ve been coming here every year since I was twelve.” Remus still looked uncomfortable and Sirius felt his stomach drop and his heart sink at the thought of letting Remus down.

“Look I, they’re pretty much my parents. You know I could list the people I trust on two hands, and they’re on that list. I lo-, I mean, they love you and that’s not gonna change, alright?” Sirius took a breath and tried not to stare at Remus’ face too much, but that was easier said than done. Even in the dim light his eyes shone like the sun through green stained glass and his scars spanned across his face, spinning the web that was Remus’ life. Sirius caught himself – fucking poetry.

“Pads, I- I don’t wanna be a burden to more people than I already am. You guys are my friends, you shouldn’t have to look after me like you do. I,” Remus ducked his head, trying and failing to hide his bashfulness, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Seriously? And no you can’t make a joke about that I’m lecturing you.” Remus chuckled at that and Sirius felt his stomach do that fluttery thing that happened whenever his friend smiled. “We all love you, and it’s not an effort to look after you, okay? You’re not a burden to anyone, least of all me. And listen, none of us think any less of you. In fact, anyone that does doesn’t deserve to fucking know you because you’re the best person I know.”

Remus looked a little shell-shocked by Sirius’ admission, and it took all his will not to kiss him right then, at 4am on the 19th of December. In fact, he very nearly did; Sirius’ hair was falling perfectly across his face, eyes still blinking sleep from them, and his shoulders and chest painfully shirtless under the duvet. He very nearly did, until Remus – damn his shitty immune system to hell and back – sneezed into the pillow, causing Sirius to cackle with laughter until he realised that it was still ridiculously early in the morning and people were still sleeping. So he subdued the laugh, dropping his head to Remus’ collarbone and fuck, if that wasn’t a scene straight out of his daydreams – them in bed together, Sirius shirtless and his body practically radiating heat.

It took Remus a little longer to fall asleep than it did his shaggy haired friend. His mind was annoyingly awake, gears turning as he thought over Sirius’ words, and the more he did the more conflicted he felt. He loved Sirius, in a totally pro-homo, fuck me now, marry me and have my kids kind of way. It hurt like hell not being able to tell Sirius, but he wasn’t about to risk their friendship over this. He’d rather be friends with Sirius forever than admit to his feelings and fuck things up between them. He meant what he’d said earlier – “ _I don’t want to lose you”_. His 6am epiphany wasn’t the life changing moment he’d hoped it would be, but the simple realisation was that his life was quickly turning into every teenage cliché, - this time with a gay twist. He was so so fucked.  

They ended up falling asleep like that, Sirius practically on top of Remus, and remained that way until around 1pm the next day. Mrs Potter had come in earlier with a half full washing basket, but hadn’t been able to bear waking the boys up. They looked so happy and comfortable together that she had simply flicked her hand to close the door silently and left the boys to it; it was rare to see Sirius looking that peaceful, even in his sleep.


	5. Even In My Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda a filler chapter but also not  
> ive had no inspo to write recently but ill still try to upload as often as possible (every Thursday my dudes)  
> warning: theres reference smut in this one, its right at the end so just ignore it if you don't wanna read it, its soft core anyway bc I don't rly like writing m/m smut bc yknow,, I don't have a dick.  
> enjoy :)

Remus was used to waking up to complete darkness in the winter – the Scottish highlands didn’t offer much in the way of sunlight on early winter mornings. So he had every right to wake up confused that morning (well, he conceded, afternoon) due to the weak sun that was just able to force its way through the gaps in the heavy curtains. The other reason why Remus had every right to be confused was the unexplained weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw Sirius’ familiar dark hair fanning across the pale blue of his t-shirt; he was clearly fast asleep despite the time of day (a quick glance at the clock across the room revealed that it was 1:27pm). Blinking sleep from his eyes, Remus stretched as surreptitiously as he could without waking the sleeping figure and began to recall the events of the previous night. Sirius had fallen asleep fairly quickly after they’d stopped talking, ever the lazy shithead, but it had taken Remus a while longer, as it always did. Fucking insomnia. But last night had been different than usual. Of course, he struggled to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings, but also his mind had been infuriatingly alert, amidst thoughts of worry and unease. Sirius, as always, had comforted him and said exactly the right things to calm him down before he fully panicked. And then they’d spent the night together; Remus hadn’t slept that well in a long while (in fact, not since the last time they had fallen asleep together somewhere that wasn’t the shrieking shack).

If he was being honest, Remus could have stayed like that forever – if he believed in heaven, this is probably what it would look like for him. Both fortunately and the opposite, the gorgeous scent of Mrs Potter’s cooking had begun to waft up the stairs and creep in through the gap under the door. It was then that Remus realised it had been way too long since he’d last eaten. He was saved having to wake Sirius up himself by the grumbling of his stomach as it disputed the unfairness of a whole eighteen hours without food. Sirius groaned in tandem as he awoke, rubbing his eyes groggily and trying to snuggle back into bed.

“Pads.” Remus drew out the vowel in the word, aware that it made him sound whiny but he was hungry, goddamnit.

“Pads, get up. ‘M hungry.” Sirius simply groaned in response.

“Mm no, five more minutes.” Sirius’ voice matched Remus’ in whininess, except his was significantly rougher, considering he’d only been awake for a few minutes.

“I can smell Mrs P’s cooking from here and if you don’t move I’ll shove you off the bed.”

“’S a bit dramatic for food.”

“You’ve known me for five years, when have I not been dramatic about food.” Remus quipped easily. “Now get your arse up before I transfigure your pants into a fucking block of ice.”

That seemed to be encouragement enough for Sirius, and he rolled out of bed, mumbling something about “turn your pants into ice, dickhead.”

It was at that point that Remus remembered Sirius’ sleeping attire, and he faltered upon seeing Sirius’ bare back and shoulders that led to the (unfortunately clothed) arse that Remus was pretty sure was sculpted by the gods themselves. Of course, as that thought crossed his mind, Sirius looked over his shoulder at Remus and winked.

“See something you like?” Remus was so shocked by the phrase that he stammered and blushed, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“You fluster too easy. I’m gonna have to give you lessons or something.” Was all Sirius said before chucking on trackies and a thin sweater, and exiting the room, leaving Remus turned on, frustrated, and even more conflicted.

Remus was still blushing as he headed downstairs, a pair of corduroy overalls chucked over his pyjama top, the clips left unfastened and hanging near his knees. They weren’t exactly fashionable, he knew, but they were comfy as fuck, and also they’d been a gift from Sirius when he had taken him to a muggle town and introduced him to charity shops. That had been a good day. They’d spent it walking around, shopping and buying coffee for Remus and water for Sirius (“ _I’m not drinking any of this ‘fizzy’ or whatever you call it, it’s fucking fluorescent Moons. Fluorescent._ ”) It had taken the whole day for Remus to teach Sirius the monetary system that muggles use, and even then Remus had handled all the transactions.

Shaking the memory from his head before he started grinning like an idiot, Remus headed into the huge dining room, in which the Potters and Sirius were sat, tucking into a ridiculously large lunch. The table was laden with bowls and bowls of food – rice and seasoned bread and some sort of curry dish that smelled fucking amazing.

“Finally decided to grace us with your presence, Moons?” James smirked as Remus sat down next to him, elbowing him in the side.

“James, dear,” Mrs Potter reprimanded, offering the bowl of delicious smelling something to Remus. “Be nice. Remus, this is masala, and there’s naan and rice over by James, okay?”

As they ate, Remus enjoyed the bustle and chatter of the group; it was vastly different to dinner at home, which was often quiet and sullen, the silence broken only by the quiet scraping of metal against china. And _merlin_ , this food rivalled that of the meals at Hogwarts.

The rest of the day was spent out in the huge fields behind the Potter house playing Quidditch. It was one of those days were the sun was weak and low in the sky, and frost clung tightly to every surface  like a child to its mother. James, Sirius, and Remus were all bundled up in layers of jumpers and coats (by the insistence of Mrs Potter) but even so, when they trudged back indoors that evening just after sundown, their fingers and toes were numb with cold and cheeks were stiff as they smiled and talked.

“I think that might have been the best save I’ve ever made.” Remus proudly stated, replacing his borrowed broom in the shed next to the back door, careful not to knock the other brooms balanced against the side wall.

“And your first.” Sirius laughed and James’ quip and put an arm round Remus’ shoulders, assuming the blush on the latter’s cheeks was from cold rather than something else.

“He got more saves than you, Prongs.” Sirius mentioned fairly, to which James exclaimed, “Only because I never played keeper, you fucker.”

“James Potter! Since when have I allowed that sort of language in my house, hm?” Mrs Potter had suddenly appeared – a small but powerful presence in the hallway. Muttering an apology, James started to lead his friends up the stairs to get changed.

“And just where do you think you’re going? You can go help your dad with dinner.” As all three of them begun to trudge towards the kitchen, clothes still sodden and bitter, Euphemia added: “Not you boys, of course, you two go get all dry. Dinner’s in an hour.” Quietly chuckling and nudging their friend (who looked grumpy at best, murderous at worst), Sirius and Remus headed up the stairs, careful to leave their muddied shoes before stepping on to the carpet that Mrs Potter kept so meticulously clean.

Flirting, unfortunately for both Remus’ and Sirius’ sanity, had seemed to become a bit of a common pastime for the two of them. Only when they were alone, of course, but they knew each other so well at this point that a simple look could get the other blushing.

“Hey Lupin, you just gonna stand there watching me change or…” Remus blushed bright red, but before he could get a single stuttered word out, Sirius was talking again.

“I mean, not like I’d mind if you did.”

This time, not only did Remus’ face resemble his Gryffindor jumper, Sirius was right there with him, eyes wide as if just realising what he just said. In fact, if Sirius could articulate his feelings right now it would go something like: “ _shit shit shitting fuck what the fuck why did I just what the shit fuck motherfuck shit.”_

“Um, I-”

“Sor- Oh, no, you go first.” Sirius faltered, still shivering from the cold outside.

“Ah, I, I guess I was gonna say that, um, I wouldn’t mind either.”

“I- you, what?” For once the notoriously loud Sirius Black was lost for words, his face crimson red from a mixture of cold, shock, and embarrassment. It made Remus more confident on his part knowing that for once maybe he had a small amount of control.

“You said you wouldn’t mind if I watched, so what if that’s what I wanna do?”

Sirius was, to use one of his favourite words, flabbergasted. He stood there, shivering slightly, in the presence of the boy he was completely in love with, and also who happened to want to watch him undress. Never one to back down from a challenge, Sirius tried to regain control of his breathing and calm his nerves – even though at this point his nerves were most definitely frayed – and brought his hands to the hem of his jumper. Well, jumpers. In one motion he pulled all three layers off, leaving him stood there in jeans that revealed the top of his underwear.

Remus’ reaction only increased his confidence in what he was doing, standing there stock still, eyebrows raised, and his lips shaped around a whispered expletive. Surprised with his own self-assurance, Remus took a step forward, narrowing the distance between himself and his friend. He took a breath, then one more step and he was in touching distance of Sirius. The latter let out a small gasp as Remus’ hands came to his waist – one on bare skin and the other gripping his clothed hip. Their breathing was staccato sharp and they were both suddenly warm despite the numb coldness felt a moment ago.

A moment passed, and then Sirius’ hands were moving to remove Remus’ jacket, and then his jumper. This just brought the two even closer, and even though the scene was unnaturally quiet for both of them, everything that needed to be said was somehow put on hold because they were so _close_. They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice the door quietly click open, despite the silence of the room.

“Merlin, if I have to peel one more fucking potato I swear-” The pair jumped apart as James sauntered into the room, looking damp, dishevelled, and disgruntled. His facial expression changed immediately as he registered the scene before him and he jumped, pumping a fist into the air above him.

“Fucking finally! Merlin on a fucking party ring you guys finally- Yes! Fuck I would hug you but there’s already way too much gay in the room so I’ll wait ‘til you guys have shirts on.” James ran a hand though his hair, then laughed at the stunned expression on both his friends’ faces.

“Oh Merlin I’m- Wait, did I just interrupt your moment? Shit. Okay, so I’m just gonna go.” James elongated the last syllable of his sentence, and pretty much skipped towards the door.

“Oh and one more thing, as much as I love,” he gestured towards the two of the, who were both still stood there, shirtless and shocked, “this, I really don’t wanna hear my best friends fucking so like, keep it down. If you can.”


	6. Need You Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! warning for this one: smut but not super hard core (its at the beginning so you can skip if you want)  
> the rest of the fic isn't pre written so prompts would be great bc idk where I want this to go rly lmao so comment any suggestions if u want :)  
> theres gonna be like 3 or 4 more chapters I think (don't hold me to that)  
> enjoy :)

Remus looked up at Sirius, very conscious that he was still stood there, shirtless, next to his best friend, who was also shirtless. He was blushing, and hard under his jeans, and he came to the quite sudden, yet obvious, conclusion that this was really, super fucking gay. Sirius was itching under his skin, the need to touch Remus burning, so he could totally blame instinct for his next actions. He stepped forward, pretty much grabbing Remus’ hips and backing him up towards the wall.

“I, _fuck_ , is this okay? I’ll stop if it’s not, I just-” Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence before Remus’ hands came to his own hips and kissed him with an intensity that felt like fire and ice all at the same time, leaving him wanting more and more. Moaning at the feel of Sirius so close to him, Remus took some control back, biting lightly at Sirius’ lip and leading them both towards his bed. The sounds that Sirius made were driving him slowly insane, the itch under his skin growing to a bubbling burn that had Remus gasping and groaning against Sirius’ mouth. It went against every instinct to pull back, panting ever so slightly.

“I, ah,” Remus laughed slightly as he spoke, nervous. Sirius grinned and moved his mouth down to his neck, making Remus arch in his attempt to keep talking. “God, I’ve wanted this for ages, but I – _ah fuck_ – if we’re gonna do this we should, _shit_ , do this right, _oh fuck_ come on that’s not fair you keep doing that and I swear to – _fuck, oh –”_ Remus kissed Sirius again, hard and desperate, because the combination of his friend’s mouth on his neck and him grinding his hips up made it really fucking difficult to speak.

“We can do it right later,” Sirius said, breaking the kiss shortly, “but for now can we just do this?” Remus replied by crushing their lips together again, reaching between them to unbutton Sirius’ jeans, eliciting a quiet gasp from him. Sirius moaned softly as Remus slipped a hand under his boxers and kissed him with more fervour, fisting one hand in Remus’ brown-blond hair, and the other in the pillow above his head. Before long Sirius was breathing heavily and biting his lip to hold back the moans threatening to escape his kiss-swollen lips, instead letting loose a soft mutter of “ _fuck, Remus”._

Dropping his head to Sirius’ collarbone, Remus bit the skin there none too gently, leaving a mark as Sirius unzipped his jeans and reciprocated. It didn’t take long before Remus, too, was biting hard and groaning softly as he came.

“M’kay so, we’re totally talking about this at some point, but right now,” Remus yawned, “we gotta shower before dinner. And you’re going first, because I’m not moving.” Sirius chuckled sleepily in response.

“Sure you don’t wanna join?” Kissing Remus’ shoulder softly, he grunted under his breath as he got up and headed for the adjoining bathroom.

“Mm, I’d like to. But I don’t think we have time for round two.” Sirius agreed to that, and left the room after blowing a kiss to Remus, who blushed in response despite the comparable innocence of the act.

When they went downstairs for dinner, hand in hand, James’ trademark smirk never left his face.

James was usually your stereotypical jock, if he had to be described in one word. A sure-fire future Quidditch captain, prefect, and the perfect gentleman. That was, if you didn’t know him. The façade fell away when he was around his family – that consisted of his parents, and his three best friends. Right now, Sirius found it hard to believe that that was what the rest of the school saw him as, because he was currently sat cross-legged on his bed, pretty much bouncing with excitement.

“Dude you’re making me nervous, can you not sit still?” Sirius sighed exasperatedly, but the smile that had been plastered onto his face since yesterday evening remained.

“No! No, Padfoot, I can’t, because you’ve been pining after him for how long?” James waited expectantly for an answer.

“Four years.”

“Exactly! Four years! Okay, okay, so before we go into the emotional shit, you guys fucked, right?

Blushing up his neck, Sirius pushed down the wave of arousal that swelled even at the thought of yesterday’s events.

“I, uh, not exactly? Almost. We did other stuff though.” He rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head – a gesture that had always signified his uneasiness or embarrassment. He had never been good at hiding emotion around his friends, James and Remus especially.

“Okay as much as I want details- and I will be getting details, by the way,” James added, raising his eyebrows as Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt. “Have you talked it out?”

When Sirius refused to give a straight answer to that, James crossed the room to the door, despite his friend’s protests. Sirius had been spending every holiday with the Potters’ since he was twelve, so it didn’t take too long for James and Sirius to come up with a way to communicate without being in the same room; a fairly juvenile invention that involved a simple charm that transported a note written in a particular notebook to its speaker counterpart in the other room. There wasn’t much Sirius could do to stop James from writing the note – James had always been annoyingly fast. The next few moments passed in a silence that was smug on James’ part, and exasperated on Sirius’, and then the door was swinging open, cutting through the silence like a clap of thunder.

“Scared the bloody shit out of me,” Remus complained as he entered the room, then added in an awful impression of James’ voice – “’get your flat arse to my room, lover boy!’”

Sirius groaned in response, and dropped his face into his hands, causing his jab at James to be slightly muffled. “Fuck you, Potter.”

“Love you too.” James replied easily, pushing himself off the bed, and shoving Remus towards it. “Right, sit. You two are gonna talk about this and I’m not letting you leave until you have.” Opening the door, James smirked at the infuriated faces before him, and left the room, flicking his wand to lock the door behind him.

For as long as Sirius had been friends with Remus, quiet between them had never been uncomfortable or tense. Not even after the worst full moons, or when Sirius had come back to school in September with a multitude of hidden bruises for Remus to heal (he had always had somewhat of an aptitude for healing spells). But now, before he even said anything, Sirius could tell something was wrong, and it was obvious in how he rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.

“So, uh, James was pretty insistent, huh?” When Remus replied with a quiet “ _mm”_ , Sirius shuffled closer to his best friend (boyfriend?) and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair – another nervous habit.

“So what, uh, what we did earlier,” Sirius checked the battered watch on his left wrists before adding, “well, yesterday technically, I guess. That was, um, good, I mean I, I just wanna check we’re on the same page an’ all.”

When his rambling elicited no response from Remus, Sirius shuffled even closer, their knees now just touching.

“Earth to Moony? You in there?” Sirius said, poking Remus in the side. The latter didn’t even flinch, despite his usual ticklish manner.

“Moons-”

“We can’t.” Remus interrupted, then continued before letting Sirius say anything else. “Yesterday was, um, yeah. But your family, I, well, I mean they aren’t the most accepting. I’m not risking you getting hurt.”

“Remus, you think I care if-”

“I know you don’t. But I do. And I, you don’t, fuck,” Remus’ hands were fidgeting, stubby fingernails picking at the fraying red and gold wristband on his left wrist. Peter had made one for all of them in first year; Remus was the only Marauder whose wristband was still intact enough to wear. “You don’t deserve this shit. You’re, I mean, you’re you and you’re amazing and, shit.” Sighing, Remus stood abruptly and faced Sirius for the first time since he’d entered the room.

“I love you. I think you probably already know that but, uh, I’m telling you anyway. But you deserve more than some ugly ass fucking wolf with anxiety. So we can’t. I’m sorry.”

Remus headed for the door, and had one hand on the handle when he turned and opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head and closing the door behind him with an almost sickening sense of finality. It was only then that Sirius moved, dropping his head into his hands and wondering just how he’d fucked up that much. Sirius pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried, hard, not to cry – his efforts didn’t amount to much.

“Pads! Hey, did you guys- oh,” James had entered the room bounding, but his demeanour changed when he noticed Sirius’s position. “Shit, what happened?”

When Sirius didn’t answer, James put an arm around his friend and pulled him closer. It wasn’t until Sirius’ shoulders started to shake that James realised that he was crying, so he pulled Sirius into his lap and let him cry into his chest.

“Y’know, if it was any other guy, I’d say fuck him, but it’s Remus so,” James cut off, figuring out how to word the rest of what he wanted to say. “Wanna tell me what happened? Do I need to hex his hair again? Fill his bed with that permanent itching powder we scored of off Frank?”

That last comment got a watery chuckle out of Sirius at least, and the latter raised his head slightly.

“He loves me.” Sirius said in a slight voice.

“And you love him?” James asked quietly, in reply to which Sirius nodded mutely. “Right, so why are you snotting all over me?”

It took a while for Sirius to answer, but when he did (in the smallest voice James had ever heard him use) James was equal parts exasperated and forlorn.

“He doesn’t think he deserves this. Us. Me.”


	7. author's note

hi hi sorry this chapters gonna be up late. I thought id have more time bc summer and all that but I've been in a really bad place recently and ive had literally no motivation or inspo and I hate everything. also ive been working and seeing people and everything is so muchh and good writing just isnt happening idk.

 

 

i have ideas for two more fics (both wolfstar), one of them im gonna cowrite with my gf hopefully (@at_thezenith shes great) and the other one might take a while bc its gonna be based around something kinda personal and i wanna write it right bc im v gd at fucking things up oops. but yeah i should have the next chapter up withiin the next month sorry.

 

 

but if anyone wants to message me about this fic or anything feel free to

ig: @moriarteaspoon

twt: @bo_tennant


	8. Outskirts of Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! im sorry there was a bit of a delay with this chapter, but the fics nearly done I think. I have some other ideas for things to write though so stick around for those. this one wasn't edited so sorry for any mistakes oops

Christmas day was strange, to say the least. Since the Potters’ didn’t celebrate, the effort they’d made for their guests was mismatched and haphazard. A tree stood, out of place, in the corner of the large living room, the top branches tickling the ceiling despite the height of the room. The decorations that adorned the tree were incompatible yet endearing; a Father Christmas figurine circled the tree, waving; dangling gold earrings hung on the smaller branches; a lonesome pointed hat sat on one of the higher branches. The cultural differences were not the only things that made the day bizarre (although Biryani with Yorkshire puddings was a new yet surprisingly tasty experience for everyone there). The atmosphere was off; Sirius and Remus sat at opposite ends of the table rather than next to eachother, and Sirius in particular was uncharacteristically quiet. Mr and Mrs Potter didn’t notice a change, but their son seemed to be making a far greater effort to encourage conversation between his two friends, although his efforts seemed to be met with disinterested replies. 

“Hey, uh, so I’m thinking I might get a few more of those stink bombs Pads, y’know the ones that stink up the corridors for days? What do you think?”

When Sirius didn’t even acknowledge that James was speaking, Mrs Potter nudged him slightly, encouraging him to tear his eyes from his mound of mashed potatoes. 

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, sure.”

“Moony, you up for it?”

Remus didn’t even bother looking up when he replied, deliberately avoiding Sirius’ confused gaze, and James’ concerned one.

“Mm, yeah.”

James shared a look with his mum, one that not many people ever saw; it was a look that meant he was helpless and needed (only his mum and Sirius had ever seen that look). 

“Okay boys, it looks like you guys are finished with dinner, right?” A chorus of “yes, mum”, “thank you, Mrs Potter” and “wonderful, Phemia” followed, and Remus rose from his seat in order to assist Mrs Potter in clearing the table. Sirius stayed seated, occasionally partook in the animated conversation about who would win the next Quidditch world cup – “look, son, I know you wanna betray your roots and support England but-” “come on dad, India are never gonna win.”. 

In the kitchen, Remus was trying very hard not to cry as he scraped leftover curry into the multiple Tupperware boxes spread across the kitchen island. The curry seemed to find itself sat on the counter instead, because Remus’ stare was focused on the boy with the mass of long hair who was sat, melancholy, at the dining room table. It wasn’t until a plate crashed to the floor, an explosion of china shards and cold vegetables, that Remus finally tore his eyes away, quickly crouching to the floor to hide the tears that were beginning to spill. 

“Remus, darling, oh don’t worry about that!” Euphemia gasped, fixing the plate and cleaning the rubbish in a few flicks of her wand. Even though the mess was cleared up, Remus stayed on his knees, the heels of his hands pressed hard against his eyes.

“Remus?” He’d done an alright job at holding back his tears until that point, but as soon as he felt Euphemia’s hand on his back, a warm, motherly presence, he broke down. Remus curled in on himself even further, sobbing as Mrs Potter rubbed his back and pulled him close. 

“I know something’s wrong, and you don’t have to tell me what it is, but I’m here if you do want to, and I know James is too.”  
Sighing, Remus leaned into her touch. It would be so easy, so fucking easy, to just tell her. To cry and cry and accept this love and explain everything and then maybe things would be better. Maybe. Except Remus had never been good at choosing the easy route, so he sniffed sharply, wiping his eyes and pulling away from Euphemia’s comforting touch. When he stood up, the action seemed jarring, as if he was disrupting the very atmosphere of the world that day. 

“I’m fine, Mrs Potter, sorry about that I, uh,” his chuckle sounded watery even to his own ears, “I’m just tired I guess. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious, I, uh, think I’m gonna go lie down.”

Remus barely heard Mrs Potter as she wished him a good nap, or saw Sirius as he shot a concerned glance at Remus as he ran up the stairs. He hadn’t had a panic attack in a while, well, not this bad at least. His chest was tight and his hands were shaking like an addict without a fix. Pacing the room, he counted his breaths, he counted backwards from ten, he clenched his fists, but nothing worked – he couldn’t calm down. He sat on the bed, running a shaky hand through his hair and tried – he tried so goddamn hard – to calm down but, fuck, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-

“Remus? Hey, hey calm down yeah? Deep breaths, right?” Sirius sat on the bed, close enough that he could leave a comforting hand on Remus’ knee, but far enough to make sure he didn’t invade his personal space. 

“Wanna tell me what’s up?” When Remus shook his head, Sirius inched closer, lopping an arm over his friend’s shoulders. “I know you’re freaking about, uh, what happened, but it’s okay, it’s alright.”

Remus just shook his head again, refusing to lean into his friend’s touch, but not moving away from it either. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again, unsure of what to say. Sirius was running a hand up and down his arm like he always did when he found Remus panicking; it was something that usually calmed him down, but right now screwing his eyes shut was all he could do to stop himself from crying. 

“Re, I get it if you don’t wanna talk about this, or at all, y’know.” Sirius paused, hopping off the bed with an enthusiasm that he never seemed to be lacking in. “But um, so it’s Christmas. Well, obviously, um, anyway. I have something for you.”

This got Remus’ attention, because despite how upset he was, he could never ignore the possibility of a gift. Especially from Sirius, because he always knew exactly what to get him – from a lifetime membership to Honeydukes, or a charmed jumper that prevented him from pulling on loose threads (a nervous habit that left most of his jumpers with holes). 

“So, I bought this a while ago. Y’know that day when you took me to that muggle town? Well, I’m pretty sure I massively overpaid for this, but muggle money’s confusing as heck, okay.” Sirius offered the neatly wrapped gift to Remus; it was rectangular in shape, with a perfectly tied bow atop the striped wrapping paper. Ripping into it with little finesse, Remus couldn’t help but smile when a Walkman fell onto his lap.

“I’m not really sure how it works, but basically it plays music into these little nobby thingys. I got Evans to fiddle around with it, and she put on like every song ever. Oh, and it bypasses the no electricity thing at Hogwar- oh!” 

Sirius was cut off when Remus launched forward, throwing his arms around his friend’s waist. His “thank you” was muffled in Sirius’ shoulder, and again he was finding it hard not to cry. The next hour or so was spent sat in companionable silence, Remus with his head resting gently on his friend’s shoulder as they listened to the wide range of music on the Walkman. The headphones blasted tinny renditions of Elton John, ABBA, and Queen alike (Remus smiled at this – the fact the downloaded music was as much Sirius’ music taste as his own). ‘Dancing Queen’ was just finishing when Remus shuffled slightly away from his friend, carefully placing his headphones on the bed next to him.

“Okay I feel like I should say sorry first. I know you’re always telling me to stop apologising but this is probably the one time you can’t say that because I actually have something to apologise for and,” Remus took a breath, aware that he was rambling. Apparently, Sirius had noticed because he placed a tentative hand on Remus’ leg, simultaneously comforting him and encouraging him to go on. 

“I want you to know that I still mean all of what I said the other day. But I, uh, I’ve been a little bit in love with you for a good four years,” Sirius’ eyebrows rose at that, but he didn’t say anything. “Yeah, I know, shut it Pads. I was just thinking, if we were to, um, date, we wouldn’t really change much, would we? We’d just be, uh..” Remus paused, his hands fidgeting as he searched for the right word. 

“Boyfriends?” Sirius stepped in.

“Uh, yeah, boyfriends.” Remus couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and Sirius would have made fun of him for it if he didn’t have a similarly bright grin forcing the corners of his mouth up. “Instead of friends. I’m pretty sure at least half the year think we’re together anyway.”

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t if you didn’t insist on plaiting my hair at any given opportunity.”

“You can talk mate, you spend half your free time painting my fucking nails.” 

Sirius chuckled at that, pulling Remus in for a hug. Just because he could. 

“Merlin, how the shit did I think you were straight?” Sirius wondered aloud, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s (his heart leapt at the mere thought of the word) curls, humming slightly as he did so. They sat in silence for a while, until Remus suddenly jumped up, shouting an expletive.

“Rems, what the fuck?” Sirius asked, as he pushed himself off the bed. 

“Just stay there, I’ll be one sec.” Was all Remus said before running out the door and down the stairs with all the elegance of a drunken baby elephant. Sirius sat, perplexed, for a few moments until he heard those footsteps again increasing in volume as Remus ascended the stairs. He burst through the door with no finesses, a mess of curls and clumsy limbs clutching at a messily wrapped gift in the shape of a rectangular box. Wordlessly, he handed it over to Sirius, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for his boyfriend to unwrap it.  
When Sirius had finally opened the gift (it had been difficult due to the ludicrous amount of Sellotape that had been holding the paper together), he looked confused to say the least. Inside the box lay two identical shards of glass – no, mirror – that seemed to have absolutely no function whatsoever.

“I’m not really sure what they are either. But I found them in Filch’s office when I was getting the Map back a few weeks ago,” Sirius laughed at that, because of course Remus would give him a confiscated seemingly useless stolen object for Christmas. 

“Shut up, anyway, I showed them to Mr Potter, and basically they’re called Two-Way Mirrors. So I could talk into one of them, and you would hear and see me through the other.” 

Sirius picked one of the shards up gingerly so as to avoid the jagged edge of the object as he listened to Remus explain the magic behind the lack of magical tracing, before placing it back in the box. After setting the box onto the bed behind him, he closed the space between himself and Remus in one large step, taking Remus’ face in his hands and kissing him with a soft tenderness that he hoped conveyed every emotion he could feel at that moment but was not able to articulate. Remus kissed back just as eagerly, running his hands down Sirius’ back before settling them on his hips. The moment was perfect, and Sirius couldn’t decide if what happened next made it less or more so: James was standing on the other side of the ajar door, smiling like he’d won the Quidditch Cup.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!! sorry ive been mia for ages. basically I got super busy because college and all that shite. i'm co writing a wolfstar fic rn and I might have a destiel fic coming up soon. sorry for not uploading in like months, but I wanted to finish this off with a little epilogue bc I felt bad. thank u to everyone who read this and left comments and stuff, you guys are the best. like or comment if you feel like it :))

It was early enough that the sun had only just begun to push stripes of light through the blinds in Sirius and Remus’ apartment, but the pair were up already. It was Remus’ birthday, and he was on his back, hands clutching Sirius’ hips as the latter rode him gently. Sirius was gasping and whimpering as he moved slowly, his forehead pressed against Remus’ collarbone.

“Mm _fuck_.” Remus only growled in response, gripping Sirius’ hips harder and lifting his head to kiss him. The kiss was heated, yet slow, both of them letting out quiet groans and whimpers when it just felt too good. Breaking away from the kiss, Sirius sat up in Remus’ lap, and pulled the latter up with him, making everything deeper and just that bit more intense. Remus ran his hands up and down Sirius’ back, not fully knowing where to put his hands, just knowing that he wanted to touch him. Sirius seemed to like his ministrations, moving faster, and letting out all the whines and whimpers that let Remus know he was close.

“Can I…” Remus said, running his fingers over Sirius’ hip. When Sirius let out a breathy _mhmm_ , Remus began stroking him gently, trying to keep some semblance of rhythm. Less than a minute later, Sirius was tightening his grip on Remus’ shoulders and calling out Remus’ name as he came. Remus kissed him hotly, growling as he followed suite.

“Fuck,” Remus gasped, breathless, “hell of a birthday present.” Sirius rolled over next to him, pillowing his head on his boyfriend’s chest.

“You’re welcome.” He chuckled. “How does it feel being twenty-one?”

“So old. I’ll start needing a cane soon.”

“Mmhm.” Sirius mumbled into his chest, his fingers running up and down Remus’ stomach. “You’re going grey already.”

Remus responded by flicking the back of his ear gently, then dropping a kiss his boyfriend’s dark curls. It was one of those mornings where they could wake up and forget abut the war raging on outside; they could forget about the pressure on them, and the responsibilities that they had no choice to fulfil. It was one of those mornings where Remus let himself imagine what their life might be like if there wasn’t a war. Would they wake up like this every morning? Tangled in eachother’s arms, sharing jokes? Maybe it was because of that feeling, the wishful thinking of what they could have, that led him to say what he said next.

“Hey, Pads?”

“Mm?”

“Marry me?” Remus had always imagined that he would be nervous when he asked someone that question, but somehow he had never felt more calm in his life. Even when Sirius sat up like a shot, wide-eyed and spluttering.

“I- Marry you? Wha- Are you serious?”

Remus smiled at that. “No, you’re-”

“Don’t even.” Sirius pushed his hand away from where it was rested on his leg. “You’re not joking?”

“No, Pads.” Remus said, sitting up to be face to face with Sirius. “I, uh, neither of us know what’s gonna happen, right? ‘N if there’s one thing I wanna be sure of – it’s that I’ll be with you for the rest of my life. Plus,” he added, his eyes searching Sirius’, “we get to have a party.”

“You’re an idiot. I love you so much.” Sirius said, taking Remus’ face in his hands and kissing him so hard that they both fell backwards onto the bed.

“So, is that a y-”

“Of course it’s a yes, you fool.” Sirius kissed Remus again as he laughed, his hands roaming until Remus’ chuckles died down into soft moans.

***

“What?” Lily shrieked, darting forward to hug the both of them. James followed behind her, baby Harry in his arms.

“Never thought I’d see the day.” He said with a smile, passing Harry to Remus so he could Sirius into a hug. “Sirius Black. Engaged.”

“I know, right? Should be making headlines.” Remus smirked, accepting a cup full of wine from Lily (“I’d have bought champagne if I knew we were celebrating!”). More excited exclamations and smiles followed, and later that evening, they were all sat round the fire, passing between them a bottle of firewhiskey as Sirius and Remus blew their cigarette smoke out the open window.

“Best man?” James slurred, lurching forward to kiss Sirius right on the mouth.

“Oi! He’s taken.” Remus interjected jokingly. H must be, he thought, the least drunk out of all of them – and he felt as though he could barely stand. Regardless of the alcohol clouding his brain, though, he knew that this was by far the happiest day of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always appreciated dudes :))


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